Like A Bloodied Rose
by Frikay
Summary: Marik flee's from his pain filled past to find himself lost in a city, unaware of the darkness and dangers lurking there. Bakura is lonely and cursed as a creature of the night. Vampire AU-Thiefshipping.
1. Lost

**Disclaimer: I Do not own yu-gi-oh or any of the characters in yu-gi-oh.  
**

* * *

Marik watched as cars whizzed by him down the damp road, jealous of the warmth the passengers where granted. The air around him was stale and musty, a strong mixture of alcohol, smoke, and human filth. The only sounds being the nonsensical ramblings of the drunken men stumbling aimlessly around the street, and the occasional police siren blaring in the distance.

What city was he in? He didn't know.

What would he do now he's here? He was still working that out.

Marik thought about his situation briefly, before pulling his hooded jacket closer to his thin frame and trudging miserably down the darkening street. Everywhere he looked he seen filth. Drunken men hooking up with woman wearing so little clothing they may as well have been naked. Teenagers in large groups, looking for just about anyone to pick a fight with. Woman attempting to sell their body to male passers-by. How people could live this disgusting life willingly, Marik had no idea.

Casting his gaze around, his eyes locked onto a seemingly empty alleyway. Figuring being alone in the dark was better than being surrounded in this _filth_, he made his way up to the opening and stared into the darkness, allowing his eyes to adjust.

It was empty, so he stumbled in, his lack of sleep only just beginning to catch up with him. He pushed back his dismay at the though of having to sleep outside in the cold damp streets. It would probably be the only choice, seeing as he was practically broke. Why was he in such a horrible situation?

His father.

He was on the run. Trying to escape from _him. _The man who was supposed to look after and care for him. The man who beat him close to death at every opportunity. The man who he haunted his dreams, causing him many sleepless nights. The man who, overwhelmed with loneliness at his mothers death, had taken advantage of him.

Marik felt his eyes begin to water as the memories of his pain filled past flooded into his head. Screwing his eyes shut he quickly pushed all bad thoughts away, and forced himself to think about his current predicament.

Suddenly and without warning, he was shoved into the alley. He let out a shout of surprise, but felt a hand clamp tightly around his mouth muffling his noises of confusion and protest as he was pushed against one of the bricked walls, well out of sight from anyone on the street.

He shuddered as he felt what he presumed to be a knife press against his side. He could feel the warm breath of his attacker against his neck as he had leant closer to threaten him.

"Don't make this difficult, pretty boy," the man said in a low, menacing whisper "turn around and I kill you." He heard the rustle of clothes as his attacker turned around to face something. Or in this case _someone._

It was at this point Marik realised the man wasn't working alone. He had a partner.

_My day just keeps getting better and better._

The other man stepped forward and began to search through Marik's pockets, while the man who jumped him stayed put, keeping him pushed firmly against the wall, not moving the knife an inch from his side.

After searching through his pockets the man made a small noise of disappointment. He opened his hand to show the very little money Marik had to his partner, who laughed.

"That's all you got, pretty boy? That's very disappointing," he leaned in closer to Marik "Maybe we should sell _you_. You might fetch us a decent amount."

Marik neither moved nor spoke. Showing fear might encourage this man to act on his threats. He stood in the silence, expecting the man with the knife pressed against his side to make further threats, or at least leave him be now he had all his money, but it was his partner that spoke up breaking the silence.

"We should go now Joey, we already have all his money. No point in risking getting caught." So, his attackers name was Joey.

"_Idiot!"_ Joey whispered loudly but angrily at his partner. "You gave away my name!" he sighed "Well, the rest of the gang won't be happy leaving any loose threads." Marik felt the knife press harder into his side and he began to panic.

"You don't need to do that! He only knows your first name, not your second. Besides I doubt he'll even report us to the police if we don't hurt him, isn't that right?" He directed the question at Marik. Joey's partner was reluctant to have to kill, because it meant dragging attention to the area they "worked".

Before Marik had the chance to reply or even give a short nod, to his horror, Joey plunged the cold and dirty knife into his side, causing such an extreme amount of pain to shoot through Marik he found it difficult to continue to stand. He would have screamed out but Joey's hand was still pressed tightly against his mouth.

When the knife was pulled from his side, his blood began gushing out staining his purple hoodie with dark blotches of red. He instantly pressed his hand to the wound to try and control the bleeding as best he could, but Joey, deciding not to take any chances, stabbed him again, slightly higher than before.

Marik had never thought the human body was capable of feeling this much pain. Joey released his grip on Marik and watched as the younger boy slumped to the ground, hands wrapped tightly around his body, desperately trying to stop the bleeding.

Marik hadn't even heard the two criminals flee the scene, as his vision began to blur and waver in front of him. He watched as the bricked walls and damp stone ground beneath him morphed and twisted around him.

_Why me?_

He suddenly began to cough and looking to the ground that was now inches from his face, realised with horror he was coughing up blood.

_Do I really deserve to die like this?_

He pulled his hand up to his face, but could only see red. So much red. So much blood.

_Why is it always me?_

His senses went numb, and he allowed himself to collapse onto the damp alley floor. Marik was barely aware and able to register the figure that had now appeared in front of him, and began to drift away, his mind weak and ready to give in to the darkness and emptiness that lay beyond the living world.

* * *

Bakura stared intently up at the stars, admiring the soft way they twinkled, and how you could connect them in your head to form many different and interesting shapes.

" _I believe these are called constellations...?" _he thought to himself, then sighed. Life had been so boring recently. So boring that he was now lying on the roof to his apartment building staring into the starry sky, and content about it. _"My life used to be so interesting and filled with action...what happened?"_

He filled his endless seeming days and nights with wandering the city, exploring the streets and learning new things about each area. He had never bothered before, not expecting to find it useful to pursue such knowledge. Until recently.

One day he realised how much distance he had put between himself and reality. He had always been off in his own world, not caring for others and what they did. He had begun doing this on _that day._

The day his entire life changed. The day that had ruined all chances he had at a happy, carefree future.

_The day he became a vampire._

Not by choice, of course. Why would one want to condemn themselves to such a lonely life? Bakura would do anything to reverse the horrible change he had experienced, that caused him pain daily.

The first few weeks where by far the worst, however. After the excruciatingly painful change, he was lost for thoughts. He had no idea what to do. He guessed he would have to drink blood, but that thought had repulsed him. He put it off for a week, and slowly began to go insane. He was a pale, sick and twitching mess.

In the end, he had went crazy with blood lust and accidentally killed a homeless man passing him in an alley. He had never killed before, and was guilt ridden for weeks. Eventually, he had gotten over it.

_But is it really a good thing to no longer feel sorry for a man I murdered in cold blood?_

Bakura decided to go for one of his many night time strolls. He wasn't hungry for blood, he had fed earlier that day. He just needed a way to pass the time.

Walking over to the edge of the roof, he hopped up on the edge, lowered himself down and dropped down onto the metal stairs, that ended a story below him. It didn't hurt him at all. One good thing about his vampire blood was that it made him much, much stronger. He could lift things over twice his weight with ease, and jump down several stories without even a small jolt of pain.

He made his way through the mazes of alleys, not caring for any dangers that lurked there. He was never afraid in this city. He was, without a doubt, one of the strongest in it. It was likely there where other vampires in the city, but he needn't worry about that. Vampires were loyal to their kind, and never turn on each other.

"_After all, the rest of the world is terrified and repulsed by us." _Bakura thought sullenly.

Walking slowly through the narrow and confusingly mapped out alley-ways, Bakura could hear movement in the alley next to him.

Normally he would ignore it. It would probably have been some homeless man, or a random couple making out and groping each other like their life depended on it.

But this time was different. With his keen vampire hearing, he decided there were 3 people, one seemed to be struggling. As he turned into the dark alley, he seen two of the people fleeing out into the street, lowering their hoods further and leaving his sight.

He looked down at the remaining figure, now falling sluggishly to the ground, and realised with horror the man had been stabbed.

He ran forward and examined his wounds. He decided them to be, upon seeing the vast amount of blood staining the man's hoodie and the ground beneath him.

He could hear his breath become ragged and quieter, and panicked. This man was going to die, and there was nothing he could do to save him.

In that moment he remembered something he read once. He had read it from one of the many vampire folklore books in the libraries, which contained a lot of laughable theories about vampires. He had read that if a vampire willingly feed a human their blood, that human would be healed. True, the books he had read where mostly false, but he had to at least try.

The man's eyes where now closed, and his breathing was barely detectable.

_No! I will not allow another person to die because of me!_

He quickly looked around and grabbed a piece of a broken glass bottle, and slashed one of his fingers. If he wasn't a vampire, the deep gash would have caused him to cringe.

He gently rolled the man on his back, and held his hand above his face, allowing his blood to drip into the man's open mouth. He wasn't sure how much he would have to drink, so he allowed a decent amount to fall, before taking back his hand and listening closely to the man's breathing.

At first, he heard nothing. But to his relief, he had begun breathing again. It was soft and barely detectable, but still there.

He took a closer look at the man he had just saved. He had platinum blond hair, falling just below his shoulder. _"An unusual hairstyle for a boy..."_ he noted. His skin had a natural dark tan to it.

_He must be foreign. But then why did he move here?_

Bakura puzzled for a while over why someone would want to move to a city like this one, but then realised he was still crouching in a damp, dark, dirt filled alley.

He made up his mind to take the blond back to his apartment to heal fully. Bending over, he picked him up bridal style, and made his way back to the apartment block he lived in.

He could easily buy a house. He had a lot of money. He was unemployed, but he stole for a living. He was very good at it, and had never been caught. Bakura had an eye for money and what he stole always fetched a hefty price. Moving into a house would be a bad idea though. There where no dark areas from which he could feed in the housing estates. Unlike the apartment filled side of the city, which was packed full.

He then realised he was standing at the door to his room, and lay the foreign blond down so he could get out his key and unlock the door. He carried the boy into his room and set him on his bed, pulling the sheets up to cover him.

They would be stained with blood, but that would be easily washed out. Leaving the room, he left the door slightly open, so he would know when he woke up. He would have to explain everything to the man when he woke up. After all, he had just been stabbed twice, and would later wake to find himself perfectly fine, in some strangers bed.

_Explaining this is going to be fun...not._

* * *

**I know I'm alreay writting a story right now, but I couldn't help myself. I had to write this D:**  
**I got the idea one day, and jotted down ideas, and eventually had to write it out properly ^ ^'**

Also, the image used for this is one I drew myself today, specifically for it. I'm going to start doing fanart, if you want to see any, click the link to my deviant art page on my profile ^ ^  


**Also, no worries, I have started the 5th chapter of New Kid At School, Just haven't finished it yet. I was a bit lost on ideas for it xD**

**I'm not 100% sure If I even want to continue it, I'd much rather write this one, but tell me your ideas please._  
_**

**Reviews are appreciated ^ ^  
**


	2. Explanations

Marik slowly came back into the world of consciousness, forcing his eyes open, momentarily confused.

_Where am I? What happened?_

The memories of the previous night came flooding back to him. Images of the stabbing flickering into his head. He stared up at the white ceiling above him, before fully registering that he was no longer outdoors.

Confused, he forced himself onto his elbows to survey the room he had mysteriously wound up in. The walls around him where painted a plain, dark blue, and the small singular window to the outside bore matching curtains, and where tightly closed. He seen a wooden wardroom to one side of the room, and two small tables of the same wood at either side of the bed. Ahead of him near the foot of the bed was the door, leading out to...what exactly?

He pushed himself off the bed, and once standing noticed the bed sheets that were once a plain, boring white, were now covered in ugly dark red blotches.

Upon seeing the blood he suddenly realised he had been stabbed._ Twice. _And now, here he was standing as if the entire thing never happened. Pulling up his shirt he felt his breath catch in his throat as he looked down at his now scar free chest and side.

If it wasn't for the blood, he wouldn't have believed any of it happened.

_How is this even possible?_

_Someone must have saved me and taken me here. But that still doesn't explain my lack of scars..._

He hesitantly opened the door, expecting to see someone waiting for him to recover. But no, to his surprise the room beyond was empty.

He took this opportunity to snoop around. The room had a small area for cooking off to one side, with high chairs to sit at the counter to eat. On the other side of the room there was a television and some sofas. This room was also drab and plain, but the walls where littered with random paintings, giving it some sort of life.

Looking closer Marik noticed they where hand painted. _Maybe the person living here is an artist? _

He continued walking around the room and examining everything in close detail. It didn't even cross his mind that he could leave now. Although even if Marik wasn't distracted with the rooms furniture, his curiosity would have compelled him to stay.

* * *

Bakura walked casually through the alley. He was hungry.

He hated to leave that person back in his rooms alone, but he had no choice. He was full when he had found him lying in the alley, so the amount of blood around him hadn't bothered him. That changed as the night went on though, and the smell of blood wafting out of his bedroom began to distract him. At one point he caught himself about to go into the room.

After forcing himself to leave, he was now wandering the dark streets. He was bound to find someone wandering through these alleys.

Turning around a corner he found a homeless man curled up into a ball beneath a petty makeshift roof. He could that the man's breathing was ragged, and he coughed every so often in his sleep.

Bakura walked past him. He never drank from anyone in poor health, on the off chance it affected his own. He had never tried it, and was not about to take the risk.

Eventually he found someone. Turning a corner he seen a young man just metres away, dumping rubbish in a trash can. Bakura listened carefully and decided they where alone, and lunged forward to take hold of the man.

The man's eyes went wide as Bakura appeared beside him, and he tried to shout out in surprise. Before he could even move though, Bakura grabbed him, bore his fangs and clamped his mouth down onto the man's lower neck.

Once Bakura began to drink the man's blood, he had stood unmoving, in a trance. Bakura was grateful of this affect when drinking. It means he didn't have to worry about the man shouting for help or trashing around.

Once he was satisfied with the amount he drank, he released the man and wiped off the small pools of blood that had remained on the puncture wounds. These wounds would heal faster than normal cuts, leaving no evidence behind. Not only this, but the man would remain in a trance for another minute or so, allowing Bakura to escape.

His memory would be wiped of the encounter, and he would snap back to reality and go on with his day, having no idea he was just feed on by a creature of the night.

Bakura started towards his apartment quickly, but after a while slowed his pace.

_Relax, Bakura. He will still be there when you get back. _He reassured himself.

He scrunched up his face in thought. _Then again, If I woke up in some strangers bed I would want to get as far away as possible._

Walking into his apartment building he made his way up the stairs to his floor. _But he had almost died. He would at least want to thank me wouldn't he? And he would want to ask me about his lack of scarring._

Once on his floor he walked quietly over to his door, listening for any sounds. He took out the key to his door and began to open it when he heard the sound of something falling to the ground and then someone cursing.

_Great, what's he broken?_

He pushed the door open and stood in the doorway, allowing the man who was now in the main room to see him before walking in.

* * *

Marik let a curse escape his mouth as he dropped the small wooden box he had picked up and tried to open. _What's in this damn thing? Why is it closed so tightly? Is there a diary in here?  
__  
_The thought sparked his curiosity and he began to bend over to pick up the box, but stopped when he heard the door open.

He straightened himself and turned to the door to find a man who looked about his age standing in the doorway.

The first thing he noticed was the man's hair. It was white despite him being young, long and incredibly messy, chunks of hair flying out from all sides. He was incredibly pale, his skin almost as white as his hair. His eyes looked to be an incredibly dark brown, but Marik noticed a hint of red upon closer examination.

He stared at the man. The man stared back.

Marik wasn't sure what to say so he didn't say anything. Instead he waited for the man to introduce himself, or break the silence growing between the two.

The man's gaze slid down to the box that Marik had dropped and his eyes narrowed slightly. Marik, looking down to see what has caught his attention immediately felt guilty.

"S-sorry, I didn't mean to drop that." He spluttered out a hasty apology, afraid he had just angered the man who had saved him. It was then he realised they didn't even know each others names. "I'm Marik by the way. Marik Ishtar"

Bakura watched as Marik placed his box softly and carefully back down to its original position on the table. "Bakura." he replied shortly.

He walked into his apartment and closed the door behind him. He noticed Marik becoming nervous so he decided to speak more to reassure him.

"Sit down if you'd like. No doubt you have a lot of questions for me. I'll answer any you have." Marik relaxed slightly and sat down on the sofa behind where he was stood, and watched as Bakura sat in a matching armchair close by.

Bakura expected a rapid fire of questions to be thrown at him but instead Marik hesitated, unsure of himself. _I suppose I would be like this too in such a confusing and strange a situation. _Bakura patiently waited for him to speak.

Marik looked down and pointed at his chest. "Well, when I woke up I realised I had no marks on me..." He let the sentence go unfinished and looked up at me for an explanation.

I sighed to myself. _Am I really about to tell this complete stranger? What if he freaks out or tells someone?_ It was then Bakura realised he could always wipe Mariks memory if he tried anything like that. If anything he didn't expect the man to believe him.

"I have...special healing abilities, it would seem. I didn't know about them before I seen you dying in that alley. After healing you I brought you here to recover fully, and here we are."

He could tell Marik wasn't satisfied with that answer as he stared at Bakura and leant forward slightly, waiting for him to continue.

"I could give you some long explanation to this entire thing, or throw together some strange tale about how I'm some kind of witch or magic healer, but I'm just going to come right out and tell you the truth, because I think you deserve it.

I'm a vampire."

Bakura expected the man to either scoff at him in disbelief or stare in horror, but to his surprise mixed emotions crossed his face. He seen regret, pity and a strong sadness in Marik's eyes. Confused he asked

"Aren't you scared?"

Marik paused and looked up at Bakura "No," he answered shortly. After another pause he added "I knew someone like you."

Bakura blinked in surprise. _Well, that's bound to make this entire thing about a million times easier. _"Who? A friend?" Marik winced at this and Bakura instantly realised he was uncomfortable talking about this person.

Marik looked down at his thighs and quietly said "No. It was my mother."

Bakura had seen the pain in Mariks eyes, and knew she must have been dead. He would have said "Sorry" Like everyone seems to do in this situation, but he wasn't sorry. He hardly knew Marik and he certainly didn't feel sorry about his mother.

He did however feel bad for bringing up the topic and made a quick turn, instead asking "What are you going to do now? You can leave now that you're okay. Unless you have more questions."

"I don't have anywhere to go." he answered sadly.

"Don't you have any family?" Bakura felt his guilt grow as he seen Marik seem to sink into the sofa and continue avoiding his gaze. He quickly crushed the guilt he felt. _Why should I feel bad? It's not like I knew. _

"W-well I do..." He let the sentence hang but Bakura accepted the response and let it drop.

"If you have no where else to go, you can stay here." Bakura hated the idea of having someone else living his apartment, but he would feel bad just kicking him out onto the streets.

Marik looked up to Bakura in surprise "Really?" his eyes grew wide and he began searching my face for any signs I was lying. Seeing none, he began to smile in gratitude. "Thank you. Really, thank you so much. For everything."

Bakura brushed off the thanks like he wasn't bothered "Whatever. I have a spare room I used to store my art supplies. It has a bed, you can sleep in there. I'll move the stuff out of there later to give you some room." He shrugged uncaring but was secretly glad of Mariks gratitude.

Marik gestured to the paintings across the rooms walls "So you paint for a living? You're pretty good." He smiled slightly.

Bakura couldn't help feel a twinge of happiness at Marik having relaxed, and becoming more comfortable in his company. "Yes, I sell most of them for money. It's how I make a living."

"I really like that one" Marik pointed up to a painting and Bakura felt a familiar dull pain grow in his chest upon seeing it.

This was the painting he made shortly after suffering the changes of becoming a vampire. It was one he had painted out of the inner pain and loneliness he suffered. He had been forced to abandon his previous life. Forced to leave his country and family, out of fear they would reject him.

He quickly turned his mind from those thoughts, not wanting to become depressed in the presence of his new room mate.

The painting was of his old house. He had made it a snowy night, just like the day he left. He wasn't sure why Marik picked this painting out of all the others, so he asked him.

Marik shrugged "I'm not sure. I guess the way its painted. Its almost like this painting is important to you in some way. Its like you painted it with strong emotions. Looking at it I feel sad, I'm not sure why though..." Realising he was rambling Marik quickly apologized, and I let myself smile slightly in amusement.

"There's no need to be so formal around me, I don't bite." As soon as the words where out of his mouth Bakura regretted it. Marik winced, memories he wished he didn't have filling his mind.

"So, uh, you seem to be new to this city," He seen Marik tense up, expecting him to ask about his past "I could show you some places to get jobs if you'd like. To help you get started."

Marik sighed in relief then smiled up at Bakura. "That'd be great, thanks."

Bakura spotted a hint of sunlight coming through the curtains, and got up from his chair. "I'm heading to bed now. If you'd like, you can explore the city. I'll give you my keys so you can get back in, just don't get lost" He tossed the keys onto the sofa Marik was sat on.

He seen Marik look at them, hesitating. _Probably still frightened from last night. He did almost die after all._

"As long as you stick to the main streets you'll be fine. Once you leave the apartment building, only go the the streets to your right. Those are nearer to the city centre. The other direction are the streets filled with people you don't want to mess with." He added "Or if you want you can stay here and make yourself something to eat. You must be hungry." He gestured towards the kitchen.

Marik seemed to have become more relaxed. Bakura, making his way over to his room said "Feel free to do whatever you like, the only rule is to stay out of my room though. Fair enough?" in the corner of his eye he seen Marik nod. Satisfied, he continued into his room closing the door behind him.

He looked on the bed and seen the sheets where still bloodied.

Sighing, he pushed them off the bed and grabbed a spare he kept at the bottom of his wardrobe, and slowly drifted off into a long, dreamless slumber.

* * *

**I'm sorry this took so long, but at least it's here now ^ ^ Enjoy  
**


	3. Bad Luck

The now familiar dusty and smoky scent of the city left his nostrils as Marik wandered into a park he had found near the apartment. He looked around nervously before venturing further in, looking for anyone who might be trouble. However, the park turned out to be mostly empty, but he seen the occasional adult walk past, or random couples sitting on benches nearby. Deciding it was safe, he continued to explore.

Before leaving the apartment he had quickly thrown together a sandwich, which could satisfy his stomach for a short while. In truth, he was still hungry but didn't have the courage to try cooking something just yet, having had no idea how the masses of strange electronic devices in the kitchen worked.

He walked contently down the path, noting the cold bite in the air. Examining the tree's nearby he noticed for the first time that they where half bare. The leaves scattered around the ground he walked on varied from a vibrant red to a dull brown, and gave a satisfying crunch when stepped on.

Marik looked at around in awe.

He had never believed nature could be this breathtakingly beautiful.

Then again, he had not seen much of nature, or of the world. He had lived in seclusion his entire life, forced to live underground by his mentally unstable father. If not for his mother, he would never have heard anything about the outside world, but she had told him all she knew of the strange world that lay just metres beyond his ceiling. She had hoped it would satisfy him, but it had only fed his curiosity.

Marik found himself now already near the other side of the park, and to his surprise there was a small lake. He walked up beside it, and seen that nearby a girl was throwing what looked to be bits of bread into the shallow water near her.

At first he was confused, but he watched as some type of birds came out from behind a clump of reeds, and swam up to the bread, making strange loud honking noises as they fought hungrily for the bread.

The girl noticed Marik watching the scene with wide eyes, and smiled up at him. Marik took this as an invitation for conversation so he walked closer and asked "What are you doing?"

She laughed quietly "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm feeding the ducks."

"Ducks..." Marik said quietly to himself, noting their name in his memory. He had never before heard of birds being in water before, his mother had said birds flew, so these creatures confused him.

He would have questioned the girl further on these "ducks" but he stayed silent not wanting to appear overly weird. He would have to ask Bakura later.

"Do you want to try?" she held out some bread crumbs and he took them from her hand.

He stood for a second uncertain of himself, but then threw them gently into the water, and smiled as the ducks began practically falling over each other in the water to get to them.

They both stood for a while, feeding the ducks and admiring the scenery. She suddenly spoke, drawing Marik out of the slight trance he had been in.

"I suddenly realised I don't know your name. My name's Anzu. Yours?"

"Marik." She smiled at me when I replied.

"That's a nice name. It sounds foreign. Where are you from?" She asked innocently, not knowing that by asking she was bringing up painful memories for Marik.

"Oh...ah...I'm from Egypt." Marik began to shift uncomfortably on the spot and she then realised it was a touchy topic.

"So you live around this area?" He nodded quickly, thankful at her change of topic. "That's cool, so do I. Maybe we'll see more of each other." She smiled again.

Their conversation was interrupted as two people ran up to them, calling out Anzu's name.

"Hey! Anzu!" They stopped metres away from where Anzu was standing."There you are, you suddenly ran off, we didn't know where to find you."

Mariks blood went ice cold as he heard the familiar voice.

He turned around and seen two men standing, looking at Anzu in concern. Seeing she was with someone their gaze slid over to him, and they immediately recognised him.

They stared wide eyed, and Marik stared back.

"...But...How are you still-" The taller man next to joey with the brown hair started to say, but Joey had began walking forward menacingly.

Marik stumbled backwards slightly, and almost toppled over into the pond behind him.

"What the hell? How are you still alive?" Joey almost shouted, not knowing whether to be scared or angry. He was sure this man had been dead, and if he was still alive that meant he could alert the authorities. Joey was not about to take that chance.

Marik didn't give him another second to think as he bolted back in the direction from which he came. He didn't turn his head to check if they where following, but focused all his energy on putting as much distance between himself and the two men who had tried to murder him.

_Crap, they know I'm alive, and now I've seen their faces._

He mentally punched himself, because he had taken off running. Now they were bound to think he would try to turn them in.

_I should have at least told them I wouldn't tell anyone. _

He paused. Why should he not? They had tried to kill him after all. He felt his anger grow, but quickly caught hold of it before it got out of hand. It was okay, he was alive and well now.

_I should just forget this happened, and never go outside like this again._

He looked up and seen that he was now in his street. Slowing to a jog, he turned his head and was satisfied to see no one following.

While walking up the stairs to his room he cast his mind back.

_They knew had known Anzu. But why? Anzu was a really nice person from what I seen of her._

He speculated about the situation a little further, before laughing bitterly at his bad luck. It was just his luck that he was stabbed and almost killed by two guys, then manage to run into those very same guys the next day.

Making his way into the apartment he was now staying in, he sat down for a few minutes, wondering what he could occupy his time with for a few hours before Bakura awoke.

* * *

Bakura was awakened at the sound of Marik yelping loudly from the kitchen. He got up to investigate and seen Marik standing in a defensive position in the kitchen, his arms held out in front of him for protection.

Marik, having been bored had tried to work some of the devices in the kitchen. After eventually working out that you put bread in a toaster, he had stared at it until it had popped up.

Bakura couldn't hold in a small laugh when he realised that was what had spooked Marik. Turning to see Bakura looking at him Marik immediately became embarrassed.

"What's the matter with you? Never seen a toaster before?" Bakura had been joking but when he seen Marik look back at the toaster confused and wide eyed he realised he actually hadn't seen a toaster before.

Bakura, thinking that was strange, decided to find out more about Marik. Looking over he realised Marik was staring at the toast that had popped up like it was an alien.

"Aren't you going to try it?" Bakura asked, and couldn't help but be slightly amused at Mariks constant hesitation.

Marik slowly took it and bit into it, his eyes widening as he caught the taste of the toast. _If this guy reacts like this to toast...then...what has this guy been living like before now?_

Bakura silently wondered about Mariks childhood, then decided he had nothing better to do so he might as well just ask.

Sitting down in his favourite armchair, he noticed Marik had walked over to join him on a nearby sofa.

"You're not from here are you?" Bakura decided it was as good an opening question as any. Marik stopped eating his toast and swallowed to answer.

"No, I'm from Egypt." _Egypt? Why on earth did he come here all the way from Egypt?_

"Why did you come to this city? Its not really somewhere I can see people moving too."

"Well, I didn't come here by choice really, well, I mean, I did but..." Bakura raised his eyebrow at Mariks strange response, but didn't speak and waited for him to continue.

"I, er, sneaked onto a boat and hid in the cargo. I didn't know where the boat was headed, but I just wanted to get away I guess..." Marik was now looking down at the ground.

"That's a bit of an extreme thing to do if you don't have any money...why did you do it?"

Marik looked up and narrowed his eyes slightly at Bakura. "Why all these questions?"

"Well, you're staying here and I don't know the first thing about you,and that's a bit strange. I figured I might as well get to know you a bit more." In truth Bakura was just curious.

Marik looks unconvinced but answered anyway. "Some stuff was going on back home. My mother died a while back too. After that my dad...well...he was never the same after her death."

Unsatisfied with the detail, Bakura began to think of more questions to ask, but stopped when he seen Mariks face. He looked like he was about to break down at any moment. _Something horrible clearly happened to him. Best I change the topic._

"So, you been around the city yet?" a strange looked crossed Mariks face but he nodded. "Where did you go?"

"I went to the park, and..." Marik paused, wondering whether or not he should tell Bakura about his encounter with the two men who stabbed him. In the end he decided against it, thinking there to be no point.

"And...?"

Marik realised he had left his sentence unfinished and quickly asked out of the blue "Are ducks birds?"

Bakura blinked at the strange question "...yes, yes they are."

"But birds fly don't they? The ducks where swimming in the pond." Marik seemed genuinely interested, so Bakura explained to him that not all birds flew. He told him about the many different kinds of birds and their traits. Time passed by unnoticed to the two, as Marik continued to question Bakura about the world, and Bakura continued answering back.

* * *

"But it doesn't make any sense!"

Joey paced back and forth frustrated in the small alley behind their apartment building. He heard the door open behind him and he turned to see who had followed him out here.

"Tristan, that was him, right?" He had began to have doubts if it was the man they had mugged in the alley. A man just can't get back up from the dead after all.

"If it wasn't, why would he run?" Joey blinked at Tristan then made a noise of annoyance.

"It has to him then. But how? He was practically already dead when we left him!" Tristan tried his best to calm Joey down, but Joey was in a panic.

_Oh man, oh man, we're done for now. We're gonna get arrested this time for sure!_

He groaned and leant against the wall, resting his head in his hands. Tristan tried his best to comfort Joey, telling him that if he was fine now, he would have no proof we did anything.

"You may be right, but still! He knows what we look like now, I don't want to take any chances." Joey had just then made up his mind to find this guy and make_ sure _he wouldn't tell anyone. And there was only one way he could guarantee that.

Tristan seen the look in Joey's eyes and immediately knew what he was planning on doing.

"Joey, no. We're in enough trouble as it is. We shouldn't even be in this situation. I _told_ you it was a bad idea to kill him." As soon as the words left Tristan's mouth Joey became defensive. Pushing himself off the wall he moved so he was right up in Tristan's face, trying to intimidate him.

"Are you trying to push the blame onto me? That's not something I would do if I were you."

Although he and Joey were friends, Tristan knew how bad Joey could get if you angered him. He immediately tried to back out of the situation.

"You're right, I'm sorry. So what do we do now?" The answer seemed to satisfy Joey who relaxed slightly and leant back on the wall again, but not without throwing Tristan a glare.

"Well, we know he must live around this area. My first move would be to have the rest of the gang keep an eye out. If someone sees his they can follow him home and we can find out where he lives."

"And then...?" Tristan asked, even though it was obvious what they would have to do.

Joey grinned menacingly. "You know what comes after that."

* * *

Bakura handed Marik the coffee he just made, and stared at the Egyptian as he took his first gulp, watching his expression closely. Marik moved the mug back from his face and paused, taking in the flavour, before smiling and resuming drinking it.

It was amazing how little Marik knew about the world, and Bakura found that interesting. It gave him something to do now at least. He was filling up his time explaining everything about the modern day world to Marik.

Soon enough he had taught him how to work everything electrical in the apartment, although it had taken Marik quite some time to understand the TV or laptop.

They both stared at the TV for a while, watching some woman give an account on the economy's current state. Bakura yawned. The news was so boring, but there was nothing else worth watching nowadays.

Marik put down the coffee which he had just finished and without warning asked Bakura a question.

"How did you become a vampire?"

He had asked the question innocently, but noticed how Bakura's eyes became slightly misted over and gloomy, as though he had been spending years getting over a now distant, but still horrible memory. Marik immediately tried to take back the question.

"I-I mean you don't have to tell me. I was just wondering but it's fine. Forget I asked." he looked back at the TV and Bakura paused for a long moment before finally speaking.

"No, I think it's only fair you hear about my life. After all, you told me about yours."

* * *

**Finally managed to write this ^ ^  
Big thanks to everyone who's reviewed this :D It really helps me out and gets me writting more x3**

So, yeah, hope you like it :D


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